Friday, August 15, 2014

Purpose

This week, my meditation group got into a deep and emotional discussion about the idea of purpose. (After we meditate, we read from a book we're working our way through, and then discuss it). It can be a real source of pain when you feel you must have a purpose, a reason you are here, and yet you don't know what it is. Unlike in cultures like that of the Dagara in west Africa, where the elders see who the child is and name him or her according to the child's perceived purpose, in our society very few of us get this kind of support. I (and I'm sure many of us) had the experience of my parents wanting me to live according to what they wished; I often did wonder if they really saw (yet alone accepted) who I was.

One of the main concepts Angeles Arrien taught (and oh, I'm still so sad that she's gone) is that we all come in with what she called "original medicine," and our job is to bring it into the world. If we do not, in fact, the world will never have it.

My friend Greg Kimura wrote a wonderful poem on this called "Cargo." In fact, it's the title poem of his book. If you don't know the poem, check it out here.

The synchronicity for me about the group's conversation was that I had just written a poem myself on the topic after having a little flash of insight about it. The poem still feels a little rough around the edges, but I like the idea behind it a lot. It's called "Purpose."